


Alec's Fixation

by cathelin



Category: Dark Angel
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/M, Fellatio, M/M, Oral Fixation, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-25
Updated: 2016-04-25
Packaged: 2018-06-04 10:49:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6655006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cathelin/pseuds/cathelin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oral fixation? Hell, yeah.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Alec's Fixation

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Denyce](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Denyce/gifts).



> Just a little bit of naughtiness that I wrote just before Valentine's Day last year.
> 
> Originally posted to my [livejournal](http://cathelin.livejournal.com/) 14/2/15.
> 
> I showed it to [Denyce ](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Denyce) and she urged me to share it, so I'm gifting it to her on AO3.

* * *

  


Alec loved it.

He loved the power and powerlessness of it. The taste and feel and smell of it. Taking pleasure from giving pleasure.

Call him a manwhore; call him a wanton slut. But, he could rarely resist the opportunity to use his hands and mouth and body to make another person whimper and moan and scream. The tomcat in him made him crave sex, but the man in him made him need to give. 

Oh, he wasn't so easy as to sleep with just anyone, not when he had the choice. He had standards. But, if there was attraction and they offered? Then, yes, he was there.

He loved it.

On his stomach, face pressed between shuddering thighs, mouth hungry on a slick pussy. Holding her hips down as she writhes and floods his tongue. Mmm, yeah.

On his knees, face pressed against a shivering belly, mouth stretched around a hard cock. Holding his hips against a wall as he writhes and spurts across his tongue. Oh, yeah.

The sounds they make, the feel of them against his lips, the taste in his mouth. Breathy whimpers and desperate moans and ragged cries. Satin soft, yielding flesh opening for his fingers or velvet covered hardness filling his palm. Salt and sweet, bitter and musky, everyone different. God, yeah.

Oral fixation? Hell, yeah.


End file.
